


Next Steps

by Amariahellcat



Series: Arisa Shepard [6]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Anger, Biotic Shepard, Citadel DLC, Dealing with the Clone, Established Relationship, F/M, Feeling Vengeful, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Mass Effect 3: Citadel, Moving In Together, No Shepard without Vakarian, Paragon Commander Shepard, Protective Shepard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 02:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11773194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amariahellcat/pseuds/Amariahellcat
Summary: Arisa had never thought of herself as vengeful. That was before her clone attempted to take over her life and destroy her friends in the process.Afterwards, she makes something clear to Garrus: he’s stuck with her, and it’s about time he realizes she’s not going anywhere so long as she can help it.





	Next Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Meep. Citadel DLC shenanigans - no dates or party yet, just dealing with the first part. Enjoy ♥

Arisa had never thought of herself as vengeful.

Driven? Yes. Stubborn to a fault? Yes. Able to kill enemies without remorse? Yes.

The type to seek revenge on people who slighted her? Normally, no.

Kai Leng had a target on his back as far as she was concerned, but that had to wait -  _Shore Leave_ , Admiral Hackett had said, the Normandy needed upkeep.

As did her Crew.

_You need a rest before going after Cerberus. You’re stressed, Commander, and the cracks are starting to show. Take a break. That’s an order._

_The apartment’s yours, Shepard; enjoy it._  Said Anderson, always worrying about her; even in the middle of a damn warzone himself.

Except the moment she’d  _tried_  to relax, shit had hit the fan.

Watching The Clone overwrite her handprint records while ‘Brooks’ watches smugly is the first moment of  _I want to shoot you._

The moment they step back onto the Normandy and she spots all of her belongings - _and her hamster_  - thrown in a disposal bin is when that thought switches to  _I will **end**  you._

Seeing The Clone wearing  _her armor_  - an older set she hardly wears, the red N7 she keeps in storage just in case her upgraded armor needs repairs - just makes her mind go black with rage, vision narrowing to a red pinpoint on the bitches chest.

They had endangered  _her Crew_. Her  _friends_ , her  _family_.

Tried to steal everything she was, everything she had worked for - every honor and victory and scar and achievement that  _she had fought for_.

_Fuck no._

Arisa hardly notices the mercs shooting at her; she swats them aside with biotics and trusts Garrus and Liara to cover her back.

‘Brooks’ she only spares attention for when she’s in the way, finally using a pull to grab her and throw her hard against the wall - stunned for the moment and out of sight.

The Clone is also biotic - of course she is, she’s a goddamn  _clone of her, dammit Cerberus!_  - but same DNA or not, six months training or not, she’s not half as skilled at using the abilities as Arisa is, not used to having to think on her feet and dodge and deal with a rocking ship.

She leaves herself open and Arisa drops her gun and tackles her down, rolling along the open hatch in a tangle of punches and kicks.

The ship bucks and throws them both off balance, scrabbling at the edge for a grip -  _What makes you so special? Why does it have to be you?!_

Garrus and Liara are there pulling her up not a second later, yanking her safely to her feet, and Arisa’s only answer is turning around and kicking The Clone off the ship.

It’s not until ‘Brooks’ tries to run and Arisa puts a bullet in her back that she realizes she  _is_  vengeful.

When pushed and pushed and  _pushed_ , when her family is in danger and her very  _identity_  is threatened, she is  _vengeful_.

_They’re dealt with._  She tries to breathe, tries to smile for the Crew - together and alive and victorious, standing outside the Normandy on the Docks and looking to her for confirmation - and it takes a moment to convince herself to holster her gun, headache already pounding at her temple,  _Save the anger for Leng and the Reapers._

“Now that  _that’s_  over, maybe we can actually  _enjoy_  our Shore Leave.” she says, trying to sound confident, trying not to let the previous day's colour her opinion on the vacation.

“If only we could go for sushi,” Joker mopes, and Arisa has a hard time downing the glare she cuts his way.

That reminds her of the mess she still needs to fix, however, and she sighs, putting a hand to her forehead. “You guys go ahead, have fun. I have to go back to the Archives.”

“ _Why_?”

“That bitch rewrote my file; I need to go get it fixed ASAP. And I need to make sure my Spectre status and other codes are working properly.”

“Good point.” Liara steps up beside her - ever strong, ever dependable, even as Thessia burns - already typing on her Omnitool, “I’ll contact Captain Bailey, let him know the body they come across is not, in fact,  _you_. I’ll also see about having your items returned to your Cabin.”

“While I’m thinking of it… can you ask Traynor to have  _all_  of my clothes sent for a wash?” Arisa can’t help wrinkling her nose, trying not to look as disturbed as she feels, “I’d say toss them and I’ll get new clothes, but…”

“Understood.”

“On that note…” she manages a half smile, waving over her shoulder as she turns and heads down the docks, “I’ll see you all later. Stay out of trouble.”

“Now hold on a minute, Shepard. Who says you’re allowed to go alone?”

Arisa turns at the bottom of the ramp and lifts an eyebrow, lips twitching, “Seriously, Garrus?”

The Turian only gives her a look, arms crossed as he stops maybe a couple feet away, “Think about it. Last time I let you wander out alone you fell through the floor of a sushi bar and got chased through the slums by angry mercs.”

“I guess it’s a good thing Archangel’s my boyfriend.” she smirks, mimicking his words from earlier, noting the pleased way his mandibles flare before he’s reaching for her hand.

“Damned right it is.” Garrus rumbles, hands warm in hers, chasing away the hurt and stress and anxiety of the past 24 hours, “Now, indulge me; let me accompany you on your errand. I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I was there to watch your six.”

“Like you have to ask.” Arisa’s grin softens, returning his grip, “You’re always welcome, Garrus.”

His mandibles flare again, grip tightening as he steps up beside her to keep her hand in his, already tugging her forwards. “Well then, shall we?”

Arisa only grins and lets him lead her, the anger draining away.

* * *

 

 Thanks to Garrus’ backup, Shepard being  _Commander Goddamn Shepard_ , and Glyph’s recordings of the whole clone fiasco, the Archive’s staff was willing and able to get her records straightened out fairly quickly.

Both of them are starving by the time they get back to the apartment -  _I just want quiet, and it’s closer than the Normandy. May as well use it, right?_  - but Arisa heads first towards the stairs, working at the clasps of her armor as she goes.

“Be right back, Garrus,” she calls over her shoulder, pulling off pieces as she goes, “Getting changed quick. Check the fridge; I have no idea how stocked Anderson kept this place.”

“Will do.”

Arisa leaves him to it and steps into the huge closet of the master bedroom - it still hasn’t quite clicked in that this is  _hers_ , somehow, her space to keep, to do with what she wants - stripping off the rest of her armor and placing it on the designated shelves before opening the back panel and staring at the few outfits she has access to.

One pair of Alliance civies, and that damned dress ‘Brooks’ had forced her into.

The latter is tossed immediately in the garbage. The former she pulls on with a few quick motions, wishing she had something even  _slightly_  more comfortable to wear for Shore Leave.

_At least these clothes haven’t been touched by a clone._

That brings about another wave of nauseous rage that she shoves stubbornly away, taking a quick glance in the mirror to make sure her hair isn’t sticking out anywhere before heading back to the main floor.

Garrus is leaning against the counters in the kitchen, arms crossed and mandibles flared in a way that is both amused and annoyed, “Clearly, Anderson hasn’t actually  _been here_  in quite some time.”

“Why…?”

“No food.”

That makes her pause, brows raised, “ _No_  food?”

“Nope. There’s some spices, lots of alcohol, bottles of water… but no actual food, Levo  _or_  Dextro.”

“Not even frozen?”

“Only if you count ice cubes, Shepard.”

“Well.” Arisa  _hmms_  for a second before shrugging, bringing up her omnitool to check her account balance - not a  _huge_  sum, but should definitely be enough for some groceries - “Then I guess we need to go grocery shopping.”

“We  _could_  just go for sushi…” he hums, smirk obvious when she shoots him a dirty look, “Or, y'know, takeout in general. Gotta be a half decent place around that serves Levo and Dextro.”

“Is this some feeble attempt at getting out of grocery shopping with me, Garrus?” she accuses, attention grabbed by a sudden pinging from the message terminal, “If it is, it’s not working.”

“Hey, I don’t mind tagging along, but it’s not like I can give any input on groceries. No point in buying anything Dextro just to have a ton of leftovers after one meal.”

“Garrus, your input is  _damn_  vital if you’re going to be living here. We need supplies for  _you_ , to, Vakarian, unless you’re planning to starve?”

That makes him freeze, mandibles flared in surprise, and Arisa plants her hands on her hips and just gives him a look.

“Living… here? With you?”

“Well, yeah. We basically already share my cabin on the Normandy. As far as I’m concerned, this is  _our_  apartment.” she’s not sure how to take his reaction, so she heads for the den to check the still pinging messages, “Where were you  _planning_  to stay?”

“My, ah, old apartment, from before you…” he makes a sort of strangled noise, and she knows he means  _before you died_. “I didn’t want to… assume anything, or intrude…”

Arisa lets herself snort at that, reading over the emails with a smirk, “Garrus Vakarian, you are  _never intruding_  unless I say so, okay? I’ll let you know if you ever cross any lines. Trust me when I say;  _you haven’t_. I want you in my cabin, and I want you  _here_.”

“Well, then, when you put it that way…”

“Damn right. So, looks like Joker wants to throw a party… shouldn’t be a problem… and Anderson gave me access to a second personal account… holy  _shit_ , Anderson, what are you - hey!”

Garrus wraps his arms around her waist and yanks her back against him before she can react, purring and nuzzling against her cheek. Arisa just grins and leans into him, letting her hands rest over his and enjoying the embrace.

“You and me, all alone in this big old apartment,” he chuckles, and the stark  _longing_  in his voice makes her shiver. “I think I like this plan.”

“Good. Because you’re stuck with me, now.” Shepard turns and goes up on her toes, grinning smugly when he automatically bends to press their foreheads together, “No Shepard without Vakarian, right?”

“No Vakarian without Shepard, either.” Garrus rumbles back, and she’s about ready to say screw the food when he pulls back and tugs on her hand, walking backwards towards the front door.

“Now then. Let’s get those groceries taken care of so we can spend some…  _quality time_  together, huh?”

Arisa smirks, grip tight, “Hell, yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day! ♥


End file.
